


The Verge of History

by arihime



Series: Chrobin Week 2015 [6]
Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 07:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5408123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arihime/pseuds/arihime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom wakes up in the middle of the desert with no memory and a strange mark on his shoulder. The only things he knows for sure is that he is inexplicably connect to the twins who found him, and that there is something very, very wrong with the world. . .</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Verge of History

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt "Role Reversal." My muse got very carried away with this one. Like a lot.

He comes awake on his back, something soft and grainy under him. It’s hot, too hot, enough that he would shy away from the heat if he could, except that it seems to be everywhere around him, and he can’t move.

Voices come from above him.

“Ash, we have to do something. It’s not safe to leave him out here.”

“What do you propose we do, then? Drag him back with us? Because that wouldn’t be suspicious at all.”

“I don’t know. . .”

People, two of them. A man and a woman, whose voices sound familiar, though he knows with a shocking amount of clarity that he has never heard them before in his life. He fights to open his eyes, blinking wildly at the sudden assault of light. It’s the sun that’s blinding him, shining at the back of the two figures standing before him. Both are wearing dark cloaks with the hoods up. 

He groans.

The people stop talking and turn to him immediately. 

“Oh good. He’s awake now.” The girl says.

The figure on the right moves, blocking out the sun.

“Hey there.” The boy greets. He’s smiling under his hood. “There are better places to take a nap than on the ground, you know. Especially out in the desert.”

He nods, unsure of what else to do.

The boy holds out a gloved hand. “Here, give me your hand.”

He wants to say that he can’t, but somehow his body moves without his permission, reaching out to take the boy’s hand. The boy tugs back sharply, pulling him to his feet. He stumbles a bit, but the boy holds him up, and he quickly regains his footing.

“You all right?” The boy asks.

He nods and says, voice rough, “Y-yes. Thank you, Narcissus.”

The boy and the girl share a look. 

“Well, so much for being in disguise.” The girl murmurs. 

The boy— Narcissus—sighs and pulls his hood down. His hair is lavender, long enough to catch the breeze of the wind. “So, you know who I am?”

There’s a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that tells him he should know this boy, and the girl beside him. But try as he might, he can’t call up any memories about either of them. (About anything.) He only has the names.

“No, actually, I. . . It's strange. . . Your name, it just. . . came to me. . .” He looks at the girl. “Your name is Aislin.”

“Yes.” She says, pulling her hood down just like her brother. They are twins— he isn’t sure how he knows that fact, but he does— but they don’t share the same coloring. Aislin’s hair is blonde, tied up in two ponytails on either side of her head.

“Tell me, what’s your name? And what brings you to the middle of the desert?”

“I—I don’t know.” He admits. “I don’t know the answer to either of those questions.”

“You don’t know your own name?” Narcissus asks.

He nods.

The two share another look. Aislin eyes him cautiously and says to Narcissus, “Do you think it’s a curse, maybe?”  
“I don’t know; I don’t feel any magical residue.”

“So he could be lying.”

“Maybe, but I don’t think he is.”

“I’m standing right here.” He says. “And I’m not lying. At least, I don’t think I am.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know.”

What he does know is that this whole situation is confusing, and that he somehow knows these twin even though he doesn’t know himself. And in the back of his mind there is a nagging sensation that something is very, very wrong.

A sharp breath draws him out of his thoughts. He looks up to find both the twins staring at him with wide eyes. Or, more accurately, staring at his arm. Narcissus reaches into his cloak, then stops mid-gesture, frowning at himself.

It’s then that he realizes the clothes that he is wearing, and that, for some reason, he only has one sleeve. He twists to look at his arm, only managing to catch a fleeting glimpse of a symbol etched on his skin before Aislin comes forward and takes his arm.

“Where did you get this?” She demands. Her grip on his wrist is tight to the point of pain, but her fingers are light when they trace over the mark, almost as if she is afraid to touch it.

“I—I don’t know. I don’t even know what it is.”

“That’s certainly convenient for you.” Aislin grumbles, but she releases his arm and steps back to her brother’s side. Narcissus has been quiet through most of this, still frowning, and she nudges him in the side.

“You know, that would explain the hair too. . .” Narcissus says. As one, their eyes go up to his hair. 

He pulls a lock of it down so he can see it better. It’s blue, almost the same color as his clothes. He doesn’t know why his hair would explain anything, especially coming from a man whose own hair is lavender.

“Well, shit.” Narcissus says. “We can’t just leave him here, can we?”

“Yes we can.” Aislin replies quickly.

“No, Ash, I really don’t think we can leave him here.” Narcissus insists.

“The hell we can’t.” Aislin steps toward him, reaching into her own cloak. Just like her brother, she stops mid-gesture. She scowls at him, emotions flickering in her eyes before she drops her hand. 

“No. . . we can’t.” She concedes, sounding confused and defeated.

“Right then—we'll take him back with us and sort this out there.” Narcissus shrugs his cloak off and hands it to him. There’s a sword at his waist, and a square pouch that looks like it holds a book. “Here, put this on and keep the hood up.”

He back away from them. “Wait just one moment. What’s going on? Do I have a say in this?”

“Not if you want to live.” Aislin says bluntly.

He stares at her.

Narcissus winces, but doesn’t correct her. “What my sister means is, we’ll explain everything once we get to somewhere safe. Staying in the desert without cover isn’t a good idea, especially since it’s going to be noon soon.”

“And you’ll be okay without this?”

“Sure. I grew up here. Meanwhile, you’re turning red and that isn’t good.”

He is. The conversation had been a good distraction, but the heat really is unbearable. He eyes the dark cloak wearily but takes it from Narcissus’ hands and slips it on. It’s a bit small on him, the sleeves not quite reaching his wrists, but it shields him from the sun and—probably most importantly for the twins—hides the mark on his arm.

“You’re going to want to put the hood up, too.” Aislin says.

He does so, surprised when it immediately blocks out the sun. Aislin puts her own hood up, the turns to her brother.

“You know we have to pass through a village on our way back, right?”

“Yeah. I’ll deal with it. At least it’ll be a good distraction so you can take him and get through the town easily.”

The twins’ habit of having conversations about him in front of him is starting to annoy him, but he keeps his mouth shut. They start trekking back through the desert, the walk mostly quiet. The sand is loose in places, which make it hard for him to get his footing. More than once he stumbles, but every time he does, Narcissus reaches out to steady him. The twins are sure-footed in the desert, and at home in the sun. 

His lack of balance could be because he just doesn’t remember how to walk in the sand, but part of him knows it is something more. This desert land might be the twins’ home, but it is not his.

“So, where are we, exactly?” He asks after a sometime of walking in silence. The ground here is firmer, and he doesn’t have to concentrate as much on keeping his balance.

“This country is called Plegia.” Narcissus says. “It’s a theocracy, ruled by the king and the high priest.”

“And is all of it desert?”

Narcissus laughs. “Most of it, yes. You’ll get used to it, after a while.”

“There are mountains too.” Aislin puts in. “But yes, mainly desert.”

“And the two of you are from here?”

“Yes. Born and raised.”

“But I’m not.” He doesn’t mean it to be a question, but Aislin answers anyway.

“No, you aren’t. Which reminds me, when we get to the town, you probably shouldn’t speak to anyone but us. Your accent. . . isn’t from around here.”

He noticed that when they first started speaking, but he hadn’t thought it was important. Apparently it, like his hair and the mark on his shoulder, is another thing he needs to keep hidden.

They fall into silence again, only breaking it once the town comes into view. It looks large from the outside, full of white bricked buildings. He can see people milling about, many wearing cloaks like the twins. Theirs are plainer though, and the fabric looks coarse. He picks at his sleeve, noting how the material slides easily through his fingers, and the eye pattern going down the arm. Whoever these twins are, he has the feeling they aren’t ordinary citizens.

“Alright, you and Aislin go in through the side of the town, and I’ll go into the center.” Narcissus says. “You’ll wait for me on the outskirts, okay?”

Aislin nods. “The villagers will probably get a kick out of this.”

“Well yeah. I think I might end up making their whole year.”

“Why?” He asks. “What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see soon enough. It’ll take too long to explain it.” Narcissus replies.

“Alright. I understand.” He says at length. “My name is Chrom, by the way. . . I just remembered that. I suppose that's one mystery solved.”

“And a lot more left unanswered.” Aislin says. “But we’ll figure the rest out later. Come on, Chrom.”

It feel weird to leave Narcissus alone, but he follows Aislin regardless, down to one of the side streets in the town. People look up and nod respectfully as they pass, but otherwise go about their day. Still, Chrom feels on edge for some reason, body tense as if expecting an attack.

“Calm down.” Aislin whispers. “You’re going to be fine.”

There’s a sudden shout from a cross street in front of them, and he freezes, hand automatically reaching for something at his waist that isn’t there before Aislin stills him with a touch on his arm. Her hands are gentler this time. A boy appears from the alley, waving excitedly and talking too quickly for Chrom to make out. The rest of the people in the street understand him, though, and they follow him when he turns back into the alley. 

“Looks like the show started.” Aislin murmurs. “Come on, we need to get at least a bit close, otherwise it’ll look suspicious.” She tugs on his sleeve, pulling him forward. They go not to the alley where everyone else disappeared to, but one further up. There’s a square or a market at the end of it that’s quickly filling with people.

And at the center of the crowd stands Narcissus.

He looks like a completely different person than the one Chrom met a few hours ago in the desert. There was a certain boyish charm about him then, and an earnestness that made Chrom not mind going off with a complete stranger. Now he stands tall, watching imperiously as the villagers gather before him. His hands are behind his back as he examines them, mouth curved into something that is not quite a smirk, but not quite a smile, either. The people fan out around him, everyone leaving a respectful distance between the crowd and him. Whereas before, the little boy had been loud and jubilant, the villagers are silent, though there is still an air of excitement, and of something else.

Narcissus raises his arms, and as one, the crowd bows before him, pressing their faces into the dirt without a care. There is a reverence in their actions, and once again Chrom wonders exactly who these twins are. Narcissus’ gloves are off, and there’s a purple mark on the back of his hand. The design is similar to the eye pattern on the twins’ cloak.

There is something significant about that mark, just like there is something significant about the mark on Chrom’s own shoulder. 

“We need to keep moving.” Aislin says, coming up behind him. He can’t see her expression under her hood, but he feels the same imperious air coming from her when she looks at the crowd. Those are her people, in the same way they are Narcissus’ and Chrom has no doubt they would bow to her as well, if they spotted her in the shadows.

“Who are you?”

“We’re priests, of a sort.” Aislin replies. “Sissy told you this country is a theocracy. The god that we worship is called the Fell Dragon Grima. We’re seen as the embodiment of his will, and so the people flock to Narcissus for Grima’s blessing, hoping that it will put them in his favor.” She motions back to the crowd. “Look.”

Narcissus has started speaking now, low and rhythmically in a language that Chrom doesn’t recognize. He moves around the circle, waving his hands around the crowd. They hang on his every word, subtly swaying in time with his movements. Narcissus goes around the circle twice, before stopping in front of a kneeling woman. He places his hands on her head, speaking private words just for her. The woman nods and smiles her thanks before pressing her head to the ground once more.

It’s an impressive ceremony, one that Narcissus repeats on the next person in the circle, and then the next, and the next. Everyone in the square has come to receive Grima’s blessing, and it looks like Narcissus will bestow it on all of them.

_Grima’s blessing. . ._

The words strike a dissonant chord in Chrom’s mind, two concepts that should not be put together. He does not know the god that these people worship, that Narcissus and Aislin represents, but something inside him tells him he does not want to know. That this god is not a benevolent one, not one whose favor anyone would want to seek.

“Come on.” Aislin says again. He follows her. “All those blessing should keep him busy for a while, and should keep the streets clear for us.”

That, as it turns out, is an understatement. The once bustling streets are completely devoid of people, and honestly look to be devoid of life in general. He doesn’t think that the entire population of the town could fit into such a tiny square, but apparently they can, and have.

They reach the end of the line of buildings quickly. Chrom expects the land to open up to more desert, but instead the terrain looks more rocky than sandy, and there is even some foliage poking out. Aislin leads him to the shadow of a tree well away from the village, which provides some relief from the heat. He sits down with a grateful sigh.

Something moves in front of him, casting a darker shadow on the ground. When he looks up, Aislin is there towering over him. She reaches into her cloak again, slowly and deliberately, with a purpose that Chrom doesn’t understand. Nor does he understand the intensity in her eyes. He meets her gaze, and she flinches back. 

“Oh damn it all.” She mumbles, looking away and shaking her head as if to clear it. This time though, her hand doesn’t drop, and she pulls something from her cloak and hands it to him. “Here.”

It takes Chrom a few minutes to recognize the water skin, but when he does he grasps for it greedily. He hadn’t realized it before, but he is thirsty.

He chugs down half of the water before he thinks to stop, though thankfully Aislin doesn’t look too annoyed by his gluttony. If anything, she looks amused more than anything. Still, he ducks his head when he passes it back to her.

“We’ll stay here until Narcissus is finished.” Aislin says. “Which might take a while at this rate, so you have some time to rest.”

“Where are you taking me?” He asks, trying to hide his embarrassment.

“There is an old temple carved into a hill a few miles from here. We go there from time to time, ostensibly to mediate and get closer to Grima, but really we mostly wander around. No one ever goes to it but us and maybe a few of our trusted people, so it should be a good place to hide you until we can figure out what to do with you.”

“Do you really think I’m in danger?” He asks. All the secrecy so far seems to suggest as much, but he doesn’t understand what he could have possibly done to be in danger in a world he doesn’t know.

( _A world he doesn’t recognize._ )

Aislin’s reply is as blunt as her first words on the topic. “Yes. You really are.”

“But why? I haven’t done anything wrong. At least, I don’t think I have.”

“It’s not what you have done, it’s what you could do.” Aislin sighs. “I promise we’ll explain everything when we get to safety, but for now you just have to trust us, alright?”

He does. He doesn’t know why, but he does. He trusts them with his life. It’s a feeling right in the back of his mind that these twins would do anything to keep him safe, even risk their own lives.

What scares him more than anything is that he knows he would gladly do the same for either of them, without hesitation.

They fall into a companionable silence, waiting, though Aislin stays standing the entire time. She paces as well, making a loop around the tree more times than Chrom cares to count. He doesn’t get the sense that she’s worried though, more just wasting time. At one point, the wind tugs her hood down, and she doesn’t bother to pull it back up.

After a while, a figure in a brown cloak appears on the horizon, running up to meet them. Aislin stops her pacing to watch them, and Chrom stand. There is no doubt who the person is.

Narcissus comes to a stop before them and drops his hands on his knees, panting. “Okay, I think that village has been blessed enough for one year.”

“They’ll certainly be talking about it for that long.” Aislin opines. She hands Narcissus the water skin. “Thirsty?”

“No thanks. I had more than enough back there. They even wanted me to stay for a feast, but I figured it was time to leave at that point. Which is kinda sad though, because all the food.”

“As if you don’t get feed enough when we’re home.”

“Yes, but we’re out meditating, and we’re supposed to like in deprivation, remember?”

“Like we ever actually follow that rule.”

Narcissus laughs. He straightens and pulls something out of his cloak. “I did take one thing with me though.” He tugs the draw strings of the bag, revealing a number of brightly colored orbs inside.

“What are those?” Chrom asks.

“Sweets.” Aislin says. “And good. A bribe is probably a good idea.”

Narcissus closes the bag and slips it back into his cloak. “That’s what I was thinking. Shall we head off then? I don’t think any amount of sweets will be a sufficient bribe if we come back late.”

“True.” Aislin pulls her hood back over her hair.

It’s on the tip of Chrom’s tongue to ask who they plan to bribe, but he refrains. He doubts they’ll tell him, and from the sound of things he’s going to meet this person soon enough anyway.

The going is quicker when Chrom doesn’t have to worry about slipping on loose sand. Aislin and Narcissus seem eager to get to this temple, and that translates into their speed as well. The sun has just started to leave its perch high in the sky when they come upon a building. It looks just like Aislin described it, old and worn but still standing after who knows how many years.

Both twins lower their hoods when they approach, but Chrom leaves his on, unwilling to have the sun in his eyes again. There’s a person with bright orange hair standing at the entrance to the temple, leaning against a wall. He has a stick of some sort in his mouth, though he pulls it out when they appear and starts waving it at the twins. It isn’t until he stops moving it that Chrom realizes it’s a lollipop.

“Violet, Bubbles! You two are early! Decided you had enough free time for one day?”

“Not exactly, Gaius.” Aislin says. “Some things just came up.”

Immediately the man’s gaze goes to Chrom. “What kind of things?”

“Nothing important.” Narcissus says cheerfully. “And look, we even got you a present.”

“. . . It wouldn’t happen to be those little candies from the village would it?”

Narcissus holds the bag out and jingles it. “Maybe. . .”

There’s a moment of deliberation where Gaius just looks at them. Then he snatches the bag out of Narcissus’ hands and immediately pops two pieces into his mouth.

“I know this is supposed to be a bribe, and it’s a very good one. But should I be suspicious that you’re trying to bribe me when you come back with a random person in tow? Who is this guy anyway?”

“Ummm. . .” Narcissus starts.

“Not here.” Aislin says, ushering everyone into the temple. 

Gaius shrugs and follows, popping more candies into his mouth as he goes.

The temperature drops the instant they step into the shade, and Chrom breathes a sigh of relief. He pulls his hood down and runs a hand through his hair, surprised not to find it covered in sweat.

“Nice color, Blue.” Gaius drawls.

“You know, technically we didn’t tell you could take that off yet.” Aislin says.

“You said to wait until we were someplace safe. This is a safe place isn’t it?”

“He’s not wrong, Ash.” Narcissus puts in.

Aislin sighs. “Fine, fine. Just come on.”

The inside of the temple is more expansive than Chrom thought. Aislin leads them into the depth of the building, finally stopping when they reach a hidden room. The inside has a desk and some chairs. She waves Chrom and Narcissus in. Gaius stays outside, munching on his candy.

“So is this one of those secret things I’m technically not allowed to know about?”

“You should come too, Gaius. I think you’re going to want to hear this. Plus you learn all of our secret eventually.”

He enters the room, but settles for leaning against the wall instead of sitting.

Aislin starts pacing again, and this time Chrom picks up on her agitation immediately. Narcissus stays still, seated beside Chrom, but the same emotion comes off of him as well.

He should wonder about how he can read these two so easily, but he figures that and everything else he doesn’t remember will be revealed in due time.

“Well, I guess first thing’s first.” Narcissus says. “You can take the cloak off now, Chrom.”

He does so, handing it back to Narcissus. It feels weird to see him without the cloak on, though Narcissus only takes it and folds it under his arm.

“Okay so, his fashion sense is off.” Gaius says. “Who wanders around the desert with only one sleeve?”

“That’s not the important part of this.” Aislin says.

“Really, because I think someone being that wholly impractical would be. Seriously, he’s lucky you guys picked him up.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Chrom snaps. “I don’t remember why I only have one sleeve. I don’t remember anything.”

“Oh really?”

“The important part—” Aislin says again, cutting off any reply that Chrom can make, “is what is on his shoulder.”  
Chrom has almost forgotten about the mark. He turns and looks down, confirming it is still there, standing out two stands darker than his own skin.

“Naga above.” Gaius breathes. 

He has gone completely still, hands slack at his sides. The bag of candy almost drops from his hand, but he catches it at the last second, neck held in a death grip in his fingers. His eyes are locked on Chrom’s shoulder.

“Naga above.” He says again.

His voice is different, not by much, the inflection changing just enough that it reminds Chrom of the way he speaks, instead of the twins.

Speaking of the twins, Narcissus leans back and crosses his arms. “Exactly.”

Gaius whips his head around to look at him.

“You found—”

“Yep.”

“Wandering around the desert.”

“Yep.”

“Without his memory.”

“So he claims.” Aislin says, but there isn’t any suspicion in the words.

“Missing a sleeve.”

“Yes.”

“Bearing that—” He jerks a hand to Chrom’s shoulder “—to the world?”

“Yes.” The twins chorus.

Gaius looks back at Chrom and scrubs a hand over his face. “Naga above, Blue, you’re lucky not to be dead. You should be dead.” He tenses again, eyes narrowing when he looks at the twins. 

“And the two of you just found him in the desert and decided to take him in? The two of you? Really? You know, logic kind of dictates that you guys out of all people would want his head on a platter.”

“Gaius!” Narcissus hisses. He looks between Chrom and Gaius wildly, as if expecting him to startle. 

Instead, Chrom clears his throat and asks, somehow calm despite the situation, “Why does Gaius think you have a reason to kill me?”

“Because honestly, we would if we were good little priests of Grima. It’s our job to get rid of anything that could be a threat to our god, after all.” Aislin say, with enough seriousness that Chrom finally feels something akin to fear. Suddenly, all the aborted gestures towards their cloak make sense. Narcissus has a sword at his waist, and Aislin probably does too.

“Ash!”

“You can’t tell me it isn’t true, Narcissus. We should have cut him down where he stood, and you know it.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Narcissus sighs. “Because the thought of hurting you—or of anything happening to you— makes my heart stop, and I don’t know why. And I know Aislin feels the same way.”

She nods.

Chrom sags in relief. At least he isn’t the only one with strange feelings he can’t explain. “It’s the same for me, in regards to the two of you.”

“Well isn’t that special.” Gaius drawls. “The children of Grima and the child of Naga trying to protect each other. It’s the start of a fantasy novel or something.”

“You keep saying that word, Naga. What does it mean?”

“It’s not a what, it’s a who.” Narcissus starts. “The Divine Dragon Naga is thought of as a goddess of sorts, on the same line as Grima. She’s basically his opposite in every way possible. That symbol on your shoulder is her mark, called the Brand of the Exalt. It means your bloodline is tied to hers.” He takes off his gloves and shows Chrom the eyes on his hand. “It’s like my mark that ties me to Grima.”

Chrom looks between Narcissus’ mark and his. The revelation doesn’t make it or him, feel any different, though he knows that being chosen by a goddess in important in some way. 

“So what? It means I’m some sort of priest like you are? That’s why we’re supposed to be enemies? Because the gods we worship are different?”

Narcissus rubs at his hand uncertainly.

“Not a priest, exactly.” Now it’s Aislin who picks up the narration. “There was a country that worshiped Naga the same way that those in Plegia worship Grima. In that country, Ylisse, those with Naga’s blood made up the royal family. Plegia and Ylisse were constantly at war with each other over their differing gods. It was never ending.”

“So that makes me what, a prince?” Chrom asks. Then another ideas strikes him, so strong that it brings him to his feet. “But wait, that means you know who my family is! There are people who know me! You two have to take me back to Ylisse. And if our countries are at war, then maybe we can convince them to stop.”

Chrom expects them to be as excited as he is, these people that he is inexplicably tied to, but Aislin and Narcissus’ faces darken instantly. They bow their heads, refusing to meet his gaze.

“What? What is it?”

Gaius barks out a laugh. “They’re both afraid to tell you the punch line to all of this, so I guess it falls to me. Violet said that both countries had been at war for years, right? And when she says war, she means that no one held back anything, and literally nothing was sacred.”

Dread drops into his stomach like lead.

“No. . .”

“It’s great that you’re a prince and all, Blue, but you’re a prince of nothing but a bunch of rubble and a few refugees here and there. Plegia won the war, and Ylisse was completely destroyed 15 years ago.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is probably gonna end up being the first chapter of a new AU. I have no idea when I'll get the rest out, just know that it'll happen eventually. My brain likes this idea too much to give up on it.
> 
> Also, for a Chrobin Week story, this doesn't really have much Chrobin in is does it? Whoops.


End file.
